


Use Your Words

by Angel_Wings14



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: (I love that that's a tag), Auditory Processing Disorder, Boys Kissing, Canon-Typical Violence, M/M, Music, Rated for swearing, Simon's shitty childhood, Soft Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-10
Updated: 2020-08-10
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:54:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25823209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angel_Wings14/pseuds/Angel_Wings14
Summary: It’s not until seventh year that Simon gets diagnosed with auditory processing disorder. Luckily for Simon he doesn’t always need words to make magic.
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Comments: 2
Kudos: 115





	Use Your Words

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a Tumblr post about APD (which I now cannot find ughhhhh) - I do not have APD so sorry for any inaccuracies (I did do my research but I know very little).  
> But yeah just a little fluff because I love these characters so much.

I’ve always found it difficult to understand when people were talking to me in crowds or when there was music playing. In the care homes, everyone just brushed this to the side, thinking I was spacey from, like, past trauma or something. There were lots of boys that I knew with nightmares and anger issues and all sorts of problems. There were just too many of us to get us all the help we clearly needed. And so, I brushed it aside too. I mean, who can really hear every word that is said to them?

But then I started to really fall behind in class, and I mean so far behind it was a serious problem. Penny and I had picked different options for our last year, wanting to specify before we headed off for uni and Agatha broke up with me and suddenly I had no one to get notes from.

The Mage pulled me aside one morning half-way through the autumn term.

“I just don’t understand, Simon,” he said, words calm but moustache twitching with restrained emotion. “This has never been a problem before.”  
“I-I don’t know sir,” I stuttered out. I was always stuttering. It had taken me so long to be able to speak at all, and now I could still barely get by.

“Don’t know isn’t good enough.” He put his hand on my shoulder then, pressing down a little too hard, making my collar bone creak under his thumb. I winced. He sighed.

“I just – if I could get someone to help with my notes or something…” I trailed off. The Mage’s face was drawn in and pinched. I hated disappointing him like this.

“You have to make your own notes, Simon,” he said as if explaining to a small child. “It’s easy, you just write down what is being said by the teacher.”

What a patronising twat.

“I know that, I just can’t hear them!” I burst out. I panted with the effort of keeping my magic beneath my skin and the tears off my cheeks.

“Can’t hear them?” the Mage asked, startled. “What do you mean can’t hear them? Were you hit by a spell?”  
“No, sir,” I tried to explain. “It’s just the words get jumbled in my head and I can’t understand.”

The Mage looked down at me then with a calculating look in his eyes.

“Ok,” he said, stepping back. “I need to call someone, I’ll summon you to my office soon so we can continue this talk.”  
He abruptly turned on his heel and stalked off.

It was a few days later when I got the summons to come to his office again. There was a weasel-y looking man there too, eyes shrunken behind bottle-cap glasses.

He introduced himself as Dr Morgan, an old friend of the Mage, who he called Davy. Weird.

“Mr Snow, Davy here tells me you’re struggling to hear your teachers.” He seemed to be waiting on a response so I grunted in acknowledgement and shrugged.

He sort of nodded along, then started digging around in his bag. He pulled out what looked like an old-fashioned tape recorder, set it on the table and dove back in, rummaging around before triumphantly holding aloft a shiny silver tool that looked like a pointy hammer.

“First I’m going to have a look in your ears, Mr Snow,” he said, scooting his chair closer to mine so he could hover awkwardly over my head. I could feel his hot breath on my neck as he clicked and clucked in my ears.

“Alright, they seem fine,” he said with a smile. I think it was meant to be reassuring but it just put me on edge. “On to the sound tests.”  
He put me through a battery of tests, asking what I heard. Some were words, others meaningless sounds. It was repetitive and seemed utterly pointless. But sometimes I would give an answer, tell Dr Morgan what I had heard, and the Mage, lounging against his bookshelves off to the side, would huff and squint his eyes at me. Maybe I was getting it wrong again, but I couldn’t give any other answer than what I heard so I couldn’t do anything about that. Didn’t mean in didn’t sink in my gut like a stone.

By the end of the tests, Dr Morgan haphazardly threw the tape player and the silver hammer thing back in his bag before turning to me.

“Ok Mr Snow. You have what is called an Auditory Processing Disorder. It means you can’t always make sense of the things you hear, especially if someone is speaking quickly or in a loud room.”

I nodded along. Those things were true, but I thought everyone was like that. Guess not.

“Davy,” Dr Morgan said, turning to my mentor. “If you don’t want Simon falling behind, I recommend you assign someone to help him take notes in class, or private tutoring in a quiet place.”

This was what I had already asked for! I told the Mage I needed help, but only once another adult said it was I taken seriously. I huffed.

I was dismissed quickly after that.

Baz was in our room by the time I got back, playing music as he worked on an essay. He did this a lot. I liked a lot of his music, not that I would ever tell him that. Sometimes I would catch myself humming something he was listening to as I showered or walked to class. He could sing along to the lyrics but I had never been able to do that. I supposed that was another layer to this audio process whatever thing.

I didn’t acknowledge him, just slumped down on my bed and pulled out the reading we had to do for classics class. Seeing Baz work on his essay reminded me I needed to get started on it too, except I hadn’t even read the part the question was on. It wasn’t in till next week, but I really needed to get started. I might even have it finished over the weekend. That would be nice.

When Monday rolled around, I felt good. I had in fact finished my essay. I probably wouldn’t have if Penny hadn’t insisted I join her in the library while she studied for a test she had on Wednesday, forcing me to get on with something else. But I did it and even had Sunday afternoon free to enjoy the cool late-October air. The trees in the wood were vibrant colours, and I loved the smell of soft decay as I mulched my way through the piles of fallen leaves.

But it was now class time and I had received a note at breakfast from the Mage saying he had made arrangements in light of my new diagnosis. I had no idea what that might mean but I was hopeful I could finally get my grades back on track.

I got to my first class of the day, Urban Slang and Modern Vernacular, only to be met at the door by none other than my surly roommate. We had the misfortune of spending all but one of our classes this year. He had elected to learn Greek as well as Latin, but I thought one dead language was enough and decided to do Botany instead. It was one of the two classes I shared with Penny, so I wasn’t actively failing that one.

“Baz?” I asked when he blocked my entrance to the class. “Ex _cuse_ me.”  
“Snow,” he sneered, not moving. He narrowed his eyes and pursed his lips as he paused. It should have made him look like a disapproving librarian but it just pulled his skin tighter around his cheekbones making them more prominent than ever. “Mage has asked me to help you with your note taking.”

Oh. “Oh,” I breathed. I had assumed that the Mage would have asked a member of staff or something to help. Hire a teaching aide. Anything but this. Really though, why Baz? He would just take this new opportunity to tease.

“Come on then,” he said, turning and taking his usual desk near the front. I slowly followed, hovering awkwardly behind the chair next to him.

“Sit down then,” he sighed, rolling his eyes. I could feel the blood heating my cheeks. I sat down heavily, dropping my book bag with a loud thump on the floor. Baz stiffened, but then relaxed back into the chair and pulled out a note pad.

We didn’t speak throughout the entirety of the class. Baz diligently took notes in a neat cursive script along with the teacher talking. I read it over his shoulder as he went. He noticed I was reading ten minutes into the class and, rather than turning a sneer on me, he moved the book further over to my side of the desk so I could see better. It was such a thoughtful gesture it took me by surprise. But I guess if someone had asked him to help, he would do this as perfectly as he did everything else. Perfect prick.

At the end of the class, he whipped out his wand and tapped the sheets of paper. I couldn’t make out the words, but I recognised the tune from one of Baz’s playlists. _Two is better than one._

The pages ruffled in the magical wind and when Baz picked up the top paper, an identical set of notes was underneath.

“Here,” he said, sliding the copied notes over to me. I hastily stuffed them in my bag as he swept up his notebook and started to make his way to the exit. I rushed to catch up with him, avoiding the gauntlet of swinging bags and other students in the narrow walkway between desks.

“Hey, uh-“ I puffed, fingers grazing along Baz’s blazer sleeve. His eyes darted down to my hand at the contact then up to my face. There was a moment when his face was open and unguarded but it was quickly hidden by a frown.

“Yes?”

“I just – uh-“

“Use your words, Snow,” he sniped.

“Thanks,” I breathed. His eyes widened a fraction, eyebrows twitching up his forehead.

“Don’t mention it.”

He started walking away again, which made no sense since we were heading to the same class. I caught up for a second time but didn’t say anything. We just walked silently to class, side-by-side.

The rest of the day passed in the same way, with me reading over Baz’s shoulder as he took notes and with a copy made for me at the end.

We walked to classes together. People stared and the air stirred around us from their whispers. I knew it was just because I was walking with my nemesis, our antagonism was well known throughout the school so this forced camaraderie was something new, but a small paranoid part of me worried that everyone knew I couldn’t understand words properly. What kind of mage couldn’t understand words? A terrible one, that’s what.

But by the end of the day, the student body had come to terms with seeing us and the whispers died down. We parted ways at the end of class, me to meet Penny in the library, Baz muttering something about football. I didn’t catch all of it because we were in the corridor but I heard enough.

It was once more the weekend, and with a weeks worth of Baz’s notes I felt like I was finally able to get all my homework done and done well. It was like I had been drowning and finally I had been brought to the surface to breathe. Baz hadn’t even told anyone why he was suddenly on fairly friendly terms with me. We even sometimes talked between classes, usually about the work we needed to do, but on Friday we had walked back up to our room together talking about Baz’s siblings. I never even knew he had sisters, but his eyes grew fond when he talked about them, so it was clear he loved them very much.

Baz was listening to music again. He seemed like he was in a pretty good mood too because he was quietly singing along as he sketched in the corner of the room. The music sounded happy. I closed my eyes for a moment and let myself drift through the melody, like I was floating with the music.

“Hey Baz?” I called over to him. His head snapped up to mine, startled, but a trace of a smile still lingered on his lips. A week ago that would never have happened.

“Need help Snow?” he asked, but it lacked the usual venom.

“I was just wondering what this song is about? It sounds really happy,” I ventured.

He looked surprised by the question, then his brow furrowed in confusion. “What do you mean what is it about? Can’t you hear the lyrics?”  
I couldn’t. I shook my head no. I could hear there were words but I couldn’t figure out what they were saying with all the guitars and drums. If I knew the name of the song I would just look up the lyrics and read along. That’s how I did it for the Musical Spell class I took in fifth year.

“Oh,” Baz said softly. He suddenly looked sad but it was only a flash across his face before he went back to looking thoughtful. “Well this song is called Carry On, it’s about… It’s about keeping going when things are hard.”

“I like it,” I smiled. “It’s got a good vibe, you know?”  
“Yeah,” he replied. “Yeah it does.”

We fell silent again, appreciating the end of the song. I realised I could hear Baz speaking despite the song playing. I suppose I’m just attuned to his voice. It’s easy for me to pick it out from all the other noise. I’m the same with Penny.

Funnily enough, I had never been able to do that with Agatha. Her voice was always too airy. One of the reasons she broke up with me is because she said I never listened. I tried, I honestly did, but it wasn’t easy to listen to her like it was to listen to Penny and Baz. Weird that they were the ones that made the cut in my messed up brain.

Weeks passed. The air grew colder by the day. We were coming up to the end of term exams and I was stressed. This was my chance to prove that I was doing better now, that the Mage was right to put his faith in me.

Penny and I were studying in the library, revising our notes (well in my case Baz’s notes). I was making mine into colourful diagrams. It was much easier to remember that way. Penny was furiously scribbling away at a mock test sheet.

A breeze rippled over our papers, as it did each time someone opened the door, and Baz strolled in. He came right up to our table with only a moments hesitation. He didn’t ask to join us, just pulled out a chair and sat down. I decided not to comment and went back to my diagram. Penny hadn’t even noticed.

Twenty minutes later, Penny surfaced from her papers and did a double take at Baz sitting across from us. “Baz!” she exclaimed. He raised an unimpressed eyebrow at the interruption and opened his mouth to reply, but whatever he was about to say was lost by screams sounding outside.

Without thinking I leapt up and rushed towards the sound. I could feel Penny right on my heels as usual, but out of the corner of my eye I saw that Baz was also following closely.

Once we got outside we were surrounded by a swarm of furiously buzzing creatures. They were too large to be wasps, and definitely the wring colour with vibrant violet and teal splotches all over their winged bodies. In the centre of the cloud was a frightened group of first years.

“ **My wings are a shield of steel!** ” Penny cast, and all around us an ethereal barrier formed in the shape of bat wings. We advanced through the swarm, their bodies bouncing harmlessly off the shield. They were dive-bombing it, stingers outstretched. When we got to the middle where the first years were being held I was sweating. It was so hot, despite it being winter.

I remember watching a documentary a few years ago, in one of the nicer homes I had stayed in. Some David Attenborough wannabe was showing how Japanese honeybees cook their attackers alive using heat cameras and weird animations. That must be what was happening here in the centre of the swarm.

“This shield won’t hold much longer,” Penny cried out. Already I could see it flickering at the edges.

I crouched over the first years, they were all unconscious by the time we had reached them. It was odd that none of them looked like they had been stung but clearly the heat was enough to take them out.

“Baz!” I called over to him. He turned to me, stooping low. “They’re too hot, how do we cool them down?”

Baz was quick to react, stepping back to the edge of the shield and pointing his wand up in the air. “ **Cool it, hotstuff!** ”

Immediately the air dropped a few degrees, but the swarm was still moving, quickly undoing any change the spell had made.

“It’s not strong enough!” Baz yelled. “Simon you have to stop them.”

It took me a few moments to understand what Baz was saying, and that was all it took for Penny’s shield to finally fall. Baz was the first to succumb, falling to his knees with an agonising scream.

“No!” I shouted, magic pulsing through me and outwards in a shockwave. Time seemed to stop for a moment, the air full of frozen bodies, then one by one the insects started to drop to the floor.

Beside me Penny was groaning as she sat up, hand clutched to her head. The first years were still passed out in the huddle we found them. But what caught my immediate attention was Baz, writhing against the grass, hands white claws scrabbling in the dirt as he cried out in inhuman howls.

I fell towards him, grabbing his shoulders, pulling him up toward me.

“Baz? Baz!” I cried. Penny crawled over to me, taking in the scene before her with wide eyes.

“Simon, look,” she croaked, pointing at a sting starting to swell at the juncture of Baz’s neck and shoulder. “These were horrornets. The venom makes a fear feedback loop until the victim dies of fright… Unless we calm him down he will die.”

No. No Baz can’t die. Not like this. He has to carry on.

I started to shush him, running my fingers through his hair. “Shh, it’s all alright Baz, everything is fine, you’re ok, you’re ok…”  
He screamed out, giving me a clear view of the extra teeth that had filled his mouth. I knew I was right that he was a vampire, but in that moment I just didn’t care.

“Penny, calming spells?” I asked desperately.

“I can’t! I’m out of magic,” she said helplessly, eyes filling up with tears.

I started to hum. The song that Baz and I had listened to that day. What was it he said it was about? _It’s about keeping going when things are hard._ I hummed it into his hair, my magic pulsing about me. I focused on floating, on being happy. I could hear the moment the sound of my humming changed. I had just reached the chorus and suddenly there was an edge to the notes, an edge of magic. I channelled it down through my hands into Baz.

He started to relax.

I kept humming the chorus, over and over, until he was finally still and quiet in my arms, breaths evened out as if he were sleeping. Then his eyes fluttered open.

“Simon?” he whispered.

“Yeah, it’s ok, you’re ok,” I whispered back. My hand had found its way back into his hair, smoothing out the sweaty strands.

“Thank you.”

I can’t say how long we stared at each other like that, even as the teachers bustled around us, cleaning up the horrornets before they woke up and getting the first years to the nurse. I helped him to sit up, slipping my hand out from his hair and around his back.

His hand came up to cradle my cheek. His touch was so gentle, tender. Even loving.

I had been staring into his eyes, so of course I noticed the moment they flickered down to my lips. _Does he want to kiss me?_ I thought. I didn’t think I would mind if he did. My own eyes responded by looking down to his lips. They looked so soft.

Between one breath and the next we collided, lips messily crashing together. In the back of my mind I was glad his fangs had disappeared to wherever they went when he wasn’t using them. I deepened the kiss, turning my head so I could get even closer.

It felt like there were sparks flying off of us, a tingling all over that looked like fireworks on the back of my eyelids.

Who needs words to make magic anyway?


End file.
